


on the rocks

by artiiichoke



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: "Johnathan", Attempted Blow Job, Blood and Injury, Body Worship, Continental Hotel (John Wick), Drunk Sex, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marcus (John Wick) Lives, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Sharing a Bed, Swearing, Touch-Starved John Wick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artiiichoke/pseuds/artiiichoke
Summary: “Johnathan,” Winston said thickly, trying to stifle a groan. John kissed his neck again, then licked up to his jaw and mouthed at his chin, breath hot on Winston’s face.orJohn shows up to Winston's room in the middle of the night hoping for some action after a job
Relationships: John Wick/Winston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	on the rocks

By the time Winston had retired from the bar and returned to his suite, it was around half ten. Marcus had come in from a job just after eight and had offered Winston a drink, which the manager had been more than happy to accept. 

Nodding to Charon as he passed through the Continental’s lobby, Winston made his way up to his room – the penthouse of course; he _was_ the manager. He showered and lounged around for another hour, nursing two fingers of scotch simply because he could.

The knock on his door came about thirty minutes after he’d settled into bed. This perplexed Winston for several reasons; few people knew how to reach his door, the person on the other side had knocked and Charon had not stopped them. It wouldn’t be Marcus or Charon; they’d both have the respect to wait until morning unless either was on the brink of death. Unlikely since one was retired and the other one was a respected concierge. Them excluded; it did not leave many others. Rising slowly, he grasped at his bedside to click the lamp on and retrieve a gun he stored in the drawer. Winston flicked on other lights as he made his way to the door, squinting in the sudden light but remaining alert. The person on the other side knocked again and Winston paused just before the door and raised the gun higher, ready to fire should someone burst through. _If they’d wanted to get in before they already would’ve._ There was another dull thump on the door as he reached forward and turned the lock to open the door.

For a second, the dim hallway outside of his door hid the figure, but Winston could already tell who it was, the unmistakable dark hair covering the man’s face, his heavy breathing and then the smile when John rose his head. “Hey, Mr. Manager.”

John’s face was dark, leaning against the door, dirt splattered across his neck and chin, a gash above his right eyebrow that was dribbling blood down his face leaving a red tear track. Winston placed the gun on a table by the door and tucked himself under John’s arm to help the man inside. John kicked the door shut behind them and allowed himself to be walked to the couch, then flopped down on it and grimaced. Winston turned another lamp on and crossed his arms, studying John quickly.

Apart from the cut above his eye and a busted lip, there didn’t seem to be any other injuries on the man – a bruise here and there maybe. “Johnathan,” Winston began, “where did you come from?”

John lifted his hung head and wiped at his face with a dirty palm. “I was on a job for the Italians,” he said, blinking the remaining blood out of his eye. He noticed the expectant look from Winston. “It went fine, don’t worry. Don’t act like you haven’t seen me in a worse state.” He reached for the abandoned bottle of scotch and poured himself too much. Winston watched him drink the whole lot, his face blank. John winced from a sting on his split lip and sighed.

“Why are you _here_ , Johnathan? Charon can call the doctor for you.”

John shakily rose to his feet and straightened up, levelling with Winston. He breathed deeply and stepped closed to Winston, slightly raising a hand as if the manager were a wild animal that would flee at any sudden movements. He sighed again, steadying his gaze with Winston’s, “I’m here for you, not the doctor.” His face flushed red and Winston noticed the cut had started leaking blood again. He felt an urgency to reach out and dab it with his sleeve. He blinked quickly, eyes flicking to John’s lips for just a second – but long enough for John to notice. He took another step towards Winston and snaked his hand out and around the manager’s waist.

“Johnathan I-”

Winston bit off his words when John’s hand grasped him through the front of his trousers and squeezed gently. He shuddered a breath and John grinned, leaning forward and letting his head fall onto Winston’s shoulders. Winston had gone completely still so John squeezed again and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. He could feel Winston’s heartbeat racing under his tongue and his stillness beginning to betray him in John’s hand. John shifted slightly and pulled his hand away for a second and Winston sighed heavily and made to move away.

“John, I don’t think-” He cut himself off again, John’s hand now _in_ his trousers, fingers curling around his cock. “ _Johnathan,_ ” Winston said thickly, trying to stifle a groan. John kissed his neck again, then licked up to his jaw and mouthed at his chin, breath hot on Winston’s face.

“Hmm?” John murmured, his thumb stroking over the slit of Winston’s cock, causing him to shudder involuntarily. He manoeuvred Winston to the edge of the bed and only when Winston’s legs hit the bed did John pull away from his neck to look the manager in the eye again.

Winston sucked in a long breath and John squirmed at the thought that he was the cause. “I don’t think this is ideal, Johnathan. While I wouldn’t say that _I’m_ particularly inebriated, I cannot say the same for you.” He put his finger up to stop John protesting before he started. “I just watched you finish off more than a mere two fingers of scotch, but you’re also still bleeding. I’d be taking advantage.” He leaned back, away from John and watched him process his words. A minute, then another, then – 

“Please, Winston.” John leaned back into Winston’s neck and breathed in deeply. “Please, I want to, it’ll be good, you won’t regret it, please.” He ran his hand over Winston’s chest and back down to his cock, fingers ghosting over it through Winston’s trousers. The manager shuddered and nodded silently into John’s shoulder. John let out a long breath and reached to pull Winston’s head gently from his shoulder, bringing his hand back up and cupping his face, thumbs rubbing over Winston’s cheeks. John leaned and let his lips brush against the corner of Winston’s mouth, “thank you,” he whispered, then kissed him softly – softer than Winston would’ve ever thought John capable. John groaned into it and pushed Winston back more against the bed, forcing his knees to bend and fall backwards, following him down just as quickly.

Winston could feel John’s cock as soon as he was on top of him, rubbing through his trousers against his leg, so close to his own. Letting the resistance drop, Winston shifted under John and rubbed himself against John’s leg, breathing in John’s hot breath on his lips and groaning into another kiss. John licked his way into Winston’s mouth and pushed his whole body down more, rolling his hips and sucking at Winston’s tongue, hands pinning him to the bed.

He pulled back after a minute, breathing deeply to catch his breath and shift himself, popping open the button and unzipping his trousers so efficiently Winston didn’t realise right away. He shuffled out of them and repositioned his legs; one on either side of one of Winston’s and tugged at the waistband of Winston’s pyjamas, his hand reaching back down and grasping Winston’s now fully flushed, hard cock. The manager shivered underneath him and arched into John’s hand, precome steadily beading at the top of his cock. John twisted his hand and tugged gently, rubbing his own cock against Winston’s leg.

Winston’s eyes rolled back, and he reached between their faces to caress John’s cheek and wipe the drying blood off his face. John winced but continued to jerk his hand between them and rut against Winston, gasps and moans getting lost in Winston’s mouth.

Pulling away by gently patting John’s cheek, Winston gazed at him in the dim room, lit only by a handful of lamps. “John, I would like it very much for you to get off too. May I touch you?” John grinned wide and toothy into another kiss, murmuring _yes_ countless times onto Winston’s lips.

Winston moved the hand from John’s face to between them and traced down John’s body, over the muscles and scars, grinning when John moaned loudly with the first touch of Winston’s hand on his cock. John moved from Winston’s mouth and gasped into his neck, sucking the skin, his whole body tense under Winston’s touch. “Fuck, Winston,” he said, groaning louder with each careful twist of Winston’s wrist, each swipe over the head. “Thank you, thank you, thank yo–”

Winston cut his chanting off, turning his head to catch John’s lips with his own. “Johnathan, you do not need to thank me for this.”

“I will,” John growled in his ear. “I _want_ to. Winston, it’s been so long and – and you’re fucking perfect.” He pulled his wrist around him again and smiled when Winston mirrored the action. “Everything about you, Winston, perfect.” John rubbed his palm over the head of Winston’s cock, using the precome to slick his hand and quicken his movements. He lifted his head away from Winston’s and reached down with his other hand to pull Winston’s trousers down past his knees. They both paused, John running his hands over Winston’s legs and pushing his shirt up to reach his chest with his sticky hand. Winston shivered from John’s touch, his whole body flushing red under John’s gaze. John dropped his head and pressed a hot kiss just above Winston’s navel, mouthing at the skin there. “Beautiful,” he whispered against the softness of Winston’s skin.

Winston reached out his free hand and it tugged gently through John’s hair, nails scraping across his scalp, making John look up. Their eyes locked and Winston started tugging at John’s cock again, the surprised clench of his jaw making Winston’s stomach flutter. John ducked his head and let it fall to Winston’s chest, groaning as Winston tugged quicker at his cock. John hiccupped gasps, squeezing his eyes shut as he came, spurting hot over Winston’s leg, his whole body shuddering with the release. Winston grinned into the sloppy kiss John plastered over his mouth, his breaths deep across Winston’s face.

John rose slightly and readjusted himself, now free of Winston’s grip. Winston expected him to flop to his side and sleep but was pleasantly surprised when John snaked down his body and kissed at his thighs. His hands squeezed gently at Winston’s sides, thumbs running over his hips in circles. John nosed just above Winston’s cock, pressing wet kisses around its base. Winston grunted, swallowed a moan and grasped John’s hair again, pulling him up just as he opened his mouth to lick a stripe up Winston’s cock.

John’s eyes, still slightly glassy after coming, widened in confusion. Winston spoke before he could be convinced to change his mind. “It’s fine, Johnathan. You are not required to finish me off. You’re tired and injured, I can deal with this myself,” he said lowly, pursing his lips. He could see John’s mind racing to figure out an excuse.

“Winston, I want to,” John breathed quietly. “Please, I –”

“No, not tonight.”

John peered at him through his hair and sighed heavily. He let his head drop to the sheets and Winston turned his head to the side to nudge against John. Winston breathed in the scent from John’s hair; slick with sweat, dirt and now, probably blood too. They lay together, John not allowing himself to drop his weight onto Winston, his hands still moving slowly on Winston’s chest. John huffed loudly, then turned his head and kissed up, past Winston’s ear and to his temple. “Fine,” he hummed through gentle kisses. One hand moved lower to Winston’s stomach. “But I still want to get you off. Don’t worry, I’ll use my hand.”

Winston gasped loudly, a whine really, when John took hold of his cock again. He could feel John’s smile against his face, so he groaned again to urge him on. John continued to jerk him, rubbing his own cock against Winston’s leg for friction. He thumbed the head then dragged his nails all the way down and then all the way back up. Winston shuddered and grabbed at John’s chin, gripping his face and pulling him into a kiss. His nose was squashed against John’s cheek – the one where the blood had trailed down it, but he didn’t care. He moaned loudly again, into John’s mouth, a warning for him. John kissed him deeper and bit into Winston’s lower lip, but not enough to draw blood. Winston came, high on the sharp pain of the bite and the quick flicks of John’s wrist, covering John’s hand and his own stomach with come. He turned his head to the side, sucking in air and catching the triumphant smile on John’s face.

John released Winston and rolled off him, wiping his hand on his shirt before looking over at the manager. He studied Winston in the dim light, his face red and pyjama shirt risen halfway up revealing his chest, littered with light bruises from John’s fingers and mouth. He reached out and traced a mark, already darkening. Winston’s face remained set to the other side and didn’t react to John’s touch. He pressed the bruise gently, then huffed and swung his legs sideways to the edge of the bed. He sat up and went to stand when, “stay, Johnathan,” Winston said, barely above a whisper. John nodded once, a dip of his head, then moved further up the bed so he could pull back the wrinkled covers. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his jacket off, wiping his face with it, then bundling it up and tossing it across the room. Winston clicked his tongue and John smiled. He stood and quickly made his way around the room, flicking off the lights and aware of Winston’s gaze on his back. John turned back to face Winston, seeing that he had pulled his trousers back up and fixed his shirt. Winston looked at John, the first time since he came, his face giving nothing away. He shuffled up the bed as John had done and peeled back the covers. John continued to smile at him and moved back to where he’d been sitting on the bed before.

He wanted to touch Winston again, reach out; run his hands through his hair, kiss him again. Instead, he clambered into Winston’s bed and waited for him to turn off the lamp on his bedside to engulf the room in darkness and John along with it. He heard Winston shuffle and turned his head to watch the manager move closer, then reach out his hand and lay it atop John’s. Nothing happened for a minute and John looked away from Winston’s hand to his face. “Sleep, Johnathan, you need to rest.” He reached for John’s face and brushed the hair from his eyes, then wiped away the remaining blood above his eye. He let his hand drop and caressed John’s cheek, thumb rubbing lightly over the stubble at the corner of John’s mouth. Winston traced over the cut on his lip and tucked his thumb just past it, grazing his teeth, pulling John closer to him. He kissed him slowly, hand still on his cheek, rubbing the skin under his eye. John leaned into the touch and sighed through his nose, breath ghosting over Winston’s face.

Winston pulled away first and leaned over to flick off the lamp. John sat upright in the darkness, the kiss still lingering on his lips. Winston moved back to him and pressed a light hand to John’s chest, easing him to lie down. John expected the hand to retract and for Winston to roll away from him, but it stayed, and Winston did not move. John willed himself to relax and clasped one of his hands over Winston’s where it was already warm on his chest. John lolled his head to the side and squinted at Winston in the darkness, eyes already drooping and threatening him with sleep. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Winston’s lips, so light they barely touched, hot breath combining and fluttering over their faces. He pulled back slightly, not enough to stop them touching, and closed his eyes. Less than a minute later, John was asleep, and Winston smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> tbc..? let me know!
> 
> visit me on [ tumblr ](https://artiiichoke.tumblr.com/) and tell me if you want more john/winston stuff i love writing them
> 
> also i know i put marcus lives in the tags but i haven't actually figued out where this sits in the timeline, but most likely before jw1


End file.
